


if i fell (would you be there to catch me?)

by joe_mama



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explosions, F/M, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jake Peralta Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23582920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joe_mama/pseuds/joe_mama
Summary: What if Pam had pressed the button?(Spoilers for s6 episode 12)
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 28
Kudos: 232





	1. Chapter 1

"Don't come any closer!" Pam said, shifting in her spot and gripping the bomb tighter in her shaking hands. "Or I'll blow us both up!"

Jake nodded, pointing his gun away from the elderly woman. Pam blinked and shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You weren't supposed to be here. This wasn't part of the plan!"

"It's ok, Pam, there's no need to panic, we're just talking," Jake said calmly. "Look, I'm just gonna put this away." He slowly put his gun into the holster, pushing his hoodie back so she could see. 

The door opened before anyone else could speak. Terry started entering the room but was stopped by Jake, whose gaze never left the bomb.

"Nope, Terry, don't open that, please," he said, palm pressed against the half-open door.

"What's going on in there?" Terry's muffled voice asked.

"There is a woman in here with an explosive device," Jake informed him. His voice was level and smooth but a knot of anxiety weighed his stomach down.

"What?! You ok?" Terry asked worriedly. Jake nodded.

"Yup, everyone is fine. I just need you to evacuate this entire floor, call ESU and the bomb squad right away and jam all cellular and WiFi signals."

"On it." The door closed and the blurred figure on the other side of the door rushed away. Jake took a deep breath.

"Ok, Pam, we're just gonna stay calm here and talk this thing through as friends," he said, not knowing if he should look at the bomb or into her eyes. He knew the word "friends" was a bit of a stretch, after all, she'd eavesdropped on his and Amy's conversation and unnecessarily joined in but anything to get to her was useful.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," Pam said, her voice matching the tremble in her hands. "The man said that I'd be able to sneak in here unnoticed!"

_Bing-pot_.

"What man?" Jake asked. "Who asked you to do this?"

"I didn't get his name but he was very attractive," Pam said, her shoulders loosening a bit. "Antonio Banderas could play him in a movie. What has he been doing lately? You know what? He should be on Outlander-"

"Ok, Pam, I'm gonna cut you off, but it's not because I'm not interested," Jake said quickly, speeding nervously through his words.

"I'm sorry," the woman replied. "I'm nervous; I get chatty when I'm nervous." Jake ignored her and tried to steer the conversation back to the bomb and the man who wanted her to do this.

"This man who gave you the bomb, did he happen to mention whether or not it's on a timer or if there's a remote detonator?" 

"I don't know, I'm terrible with electronics," Pam confessed with a tense shrug. "I wish my son, Bobby, was here. He taught me how to iPad."

"Ok! I also know how to iPad," Jake said. "Maybe I could take a look." He took a step forward, hoping their small chat had distracted her of her murderous intentions. Pam took a step back.

"Stay where you are!" She roared. "The man told me that when I got the bomb set I should text him with this phone." She looked down at a Blackberry phone crappily taped onto the bomb before continuing, "and if anything went wrong, I should press this button."

"No, no, no, no! You don't want to do that," Jake spat out, heart thudding against his ribcage as if it were to explode.

"Yes, I do, I _have_ to."

"Well, there's only one thing to do when two people have diametrically opposing opinions on a subject; a structured debate."

"What?"

Jake gulped. "Uh, yeah, I just learned about it. Alright, I'll argue the negative: I don't want to blow up, and you can argue the affirmative: you do want to blow up- which, I have to say, Pam, is a very tough stance to take." Pam scowled at him.

"I don't want to blow up, but the man said he'd give me $500,000! All of this is so Bobby can take care of my granddaughter! That girl means the world to me."

"Fine, fine, point to Pam," Jake said, remembering how Holt had judged him and Amy on their debate on whether or not they should have a baby. "But, if you care about her so much, how can you just blow yourself up? You'll never get to see her again!"

"Well, at least I know she'll be financially well taken care of," Pam argued, glancing down at the button that could so easily end the life of the three people in the room.

"Sure, but is this really how you want her to remember you? As a murderer?" Jake asked softly, silently praying the floor had been fully evacuated in case he wouldn't be able to convince Pam not to press the button.

"I'm sorry, Jake, but I have to do this."

* * *

"Where's Jake?" Amy asked Terry, trying not to let herself be dragged away by the crowd of people rushing to the stairs and elevators. Terry hesitated, his worried frown telling Amy everything she needed to know. "Where is he?" She asked again.

"He's in Rojas' room..." Terry trailed off.

"And?"

"He's with Pam..."

Amy sent him a threatening glare.

"She has the bomb," Terry spat out, clearly regretting it by the look on his face. Amy felt her blood turn to ice and her heart plummet to the pit of her stomach.

"He's in the room with her?" She repeated, mostly to herself. Tery placed a hand on her shoulder.

"He'll be fine," he said. "How about you help me evacuate the rest of the floor? To get your mind off of things."

Amy nodded, eyebrows stitched together in anxiety. "Yeah, yeah, let's go."

With the help of some uniformed officers, they emptied out the entire fourth floor of the hospital. Amy spent most of the time fiddling with her ring and picking at her nails, trying not to look at room 107, where her husband was currently dealing with some crazy old lady with a bomb in her grasp. Her husband who she'd gotten mad at because he didn't want to have a baby. Guilt sat heavily like a stone in her stomach.

"Detective Santiago," Terry said, snapping out of her anxiety-ridden trance. "Let's go."

Amy nodded, mindlessly following him to the elevator where the two squeezed in and waited. Eventually, the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. The street and parking lot were crowded with people, all wrapped in blankets to protect themselves from the chilly October air.

Amy walked over to where she saw Holt was standing, but before she made it, a devastating sound filled the air, making the floor lightly shake and the patients fall silent.

An explosion.

* * *

Jake didn't even realize his feet weren't on the floor until his back crashed against something and he slid down, collapsing onto the floor in a heap of pain. Heat blew around him, forcing him to hold his knees to his chest as pieces of debris fell around him. His ears were ringing, making the sound of his heartbeat sound distant and muffled, almost as if he were underwater.

Something heavy fell onto his thigh, pinning his leg down along with a jolt of hot pain. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he'd pass out quickly. Something wasn't letting him breathe properly, but it wasn't the pressure he was feeling on his leg, it instead stung and soaked his shirt in what he imagined was blood. He wheezed out a shallow breath, opening his eyes only for a larger piece of the ceiling to collapse and plunge him into darkness.

Jake woke up at the sound of voices and a dog snout in his face. The dog raised its head and barked loud enough to make his head spin and his ears ring. The barks echoed in his skull, every time more painful than the last. The dog lowered its head once more and sniffed again, stepping back as a figure stood over him. The person kneeled down and started prying pieces of metal and concrete off of him, letting his lungs finally rise and take in air. He coughed out and something splattered onto his lips, quickly dribbling down the corners of his mouth. The person above him yelled something, followed by other quieter voices and footsteps.

Something was placed onto his neck before it was pulled back and more words were spoken. Taking a (somewhat) deep breath, Jake willed his eyes to open, but it felt as if they were taped shut and not even his eyelids had the energy to get the tape off. A hand landed on his cheek, ever so softly shaking his head side to side. It was accompanied by a voice, softer but a bit closer and painfully recognizable. His ears had stopped ringing a while ago but all input sounded far and quiet. His hearing returned in batches.

Another hand cupped his other cheek, thumb running against his cheekbone. He suddenly realized who it was.

Amy.

Now he really wanted to open his eyes, to show her he was ok, but his body still seemed disconnected from his mind. He focused on anything to show her he was conscious (or, at least, he thought he was). He tried to move a finger, but it wouldn't budge. Well, now that he thought about it, it was probably broken, but the only thing in his body that could show her he was alive was his chest, rising and falling in uneven, shallow, tired breaths. Before he knew it, his hearing was mostly back.

"Jake, Jake, come on, open your eyes for me, can you do that?"

"Come on, please, Jake."

Her cries tore Jake's heart clean in two, but his muscles were locked in place and even his breaths were starting to tire him out. A watery sob left her mouth, and that was it. Focusing all his rapidly draining energy to his eyes, he managed to pry them open. They were half-closed, but it was enough to let her see he was conscious. She breathed out, chin trembling and hands still holding his head with a featherlight touch. She leaned down and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.

"Ames." He was surprised to hear his own voice, raw and hoarse. She let out a watery chuckle.

"Don't waste your breath, Peralta," she said softly, shifting to let paramedics rush to his side.

"It's Santiago, thank you very much," he whispered with the smallest of smiles. He closed his eyes. They both knew he'd be ok.


	2. Chapter 2

Amy's leg bounced anxiously, her trembling hands clutching onto her fourth cup of coffee and her eyes finding their way towards the clock every few seconds. What should've been a fifteen-minute drive to the nearest hospital (because the one they were at had to evacuate all doctors and patients) stretched out to what felt like hours of having to watch Jake fade in and out of consciousness. Amy held his hand the entire time, furiously blinking back tears because _he didn't deserve this_.

The short, round-faced nurse had told her he would probably be fine; he just needed to survive the surgery, which was the riskiest part. A metal pole had scraped his right lung and the tissue had ripped. Thankfully, it wasn't enough for the need of a transplant --yeah, Jake and Amy were well-paid at the Nine-Nine but a bill that big would loom over them for years.

The rest of the squad had arrived not long after Terry and Holt, who had driven right behind the ambulance and accompanied Amy in the waiting room. Gina was as pale as a ghost, her phone nowhere in sight and her usually confident and proud aura was dimmed. Rosa's face remained unfazed, but she fiddled with the rim of her shirt and bit at her nails nervously. Charles was silent, his eyes rimmed with red and his voice quiet and raw as if he'd cried the whole ride to the hospital. He probably had. They'd send Amy sad smiles and silent gestures of comfort, like a hand on her shoulder or bringing her some snacks from the vending machine. 

"Here for Jacob Peralta?"

Amy was immediately on her feet, looking over at the doctor who'd called Jake's name. He was a thin, brown-haired man, his scrubs splattered with drying blood.

Jake's blood.

Amy felt nauseous.

He smiled widely at her. "He pulled through."

Amy wanted to cry. The crushing weight of worry and horror had been lifted from her sore shoulders at his three simple words. She let a trembling sigh escape her lips, burying her face in her hands.

"Thank you," she whispered after a few seconds of searching for her voice. The doctor nodded.

"He's still not stable, though," he said. "I'd recommend you go home and take a shower, you'll be the first to see him when you get back."

Amy glanced down. Her hands and sleeves were still soaked in Jake's blood from trying to apply pressure to the wound on his chest. She nodded and thanked him once more.

* * *

She pulled on one of Jake's shirts and the first pair of jeans she could grab before quickly walking back to the living room where Terry sat waiting. He looked up from his phone and smiled.

"That's much better," he said with a soft chuckle. "Let's go." He grabbed his car keys and followed Amy out of the front door. 

Amy was practically buzzing with anticipation the whole car ride. She just wanted Jake to heal so he could go home and rant about Die Hard again and work his ass off on a new case. Like old times. But no, there he was instead, waking up from surgery after surviving an _explosion_ because he thought he could handle a woman with a bomb alone.

 _At least he's alive_.

The two walked through the entrance, weaving through the crowd of people who had been transferred from the other hospital. The waiting room was full of people now, waiting to see their friends and family and praying for the best. Amy walked over to where a nurse had told her Jake was and just stood there, staring down at the handle. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Nine-Nine smiling and nodding at her. Charles even gave her a thumbs-up. Trying not to overthink it too much, she turned and opened the door.

Jake was shirtless, a thick layer of gauze was wrapped around his lower chest and his skin was cleaned of soot and dust and blood. His eyes slightly cracked open at the sound of the door, a goofy grin spreading across his cracked lips when he saw her.

"Ames," he murmured, as if surprised she had come. Amy smiled, her eyes pricking with tears at the childish joy in his tired voice.

"Hi, Jake," she said softly, sitting down on a chair next to his bed and locking their hands together. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he slurred, sending her a regretful smile. "I didn't think Pam was so determined," he chuckled before pausing and turning to her, his face falling. "Is Pam ok?"

Amy's heart swelled with undying love for the man in front of her. "She survived. She almost didn't, and she's going to jail for the rest of her days, but she's alive." Jake relaxed back into the bed, his cheek resting on his shoulder as he looked down at their hands.

"I wanna have a baby with you," he murmured, his thumb tracing patterns on top of Amy's hand. 

"Jake, you're literally high right now, we can have this talk another time-"

"No, no," he said, looking up at her with eyes full of sincerity and love. "Sober Jake told me to tell you. Also, even high Jake wants to have a baby with you."

Amy couldn't help but smile because _God she loved this man with everything she had_.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too."

They remained silent for a while, simply appreciating each other's presence.

"If the baby were to be a boy," Jake started after a while. "Could we name him-"

"No, Jake, we are not naming our baby John McClane."

**Author's Note:**

> yay my first post :D
> 
> i'm a sucker for some jake hurt/comfort hehe >:)


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